By John Carvalho

Auburn football

I have seen several oral histories of the Kick 6, so I thought I would quickly jot down my memories of that night. Add your own as comments, if you’d like.

I was at the top of Section 44 with a friend, Christie, who was at her first Auburn football game ever. We had seen Sammie Coates catch the pop-pass and run it in, and we had booed with indignation when the officials restored one second to the clock.

I watched the attempted field goal, and from my side of the field, I had no idea that Chris Davis was back there. I realized that he had caught the ball and started running it out.

My first thought was, “How quaint. This player thinks he actually can do something fielding the field goal, and he is running fast too.” I honestly thought he would be tackled and we would head to overtime.

Davis cut to the sideline, and I recall, from my view in the end zone, that when Cody Mandell and Dee Ford crossed in front of Davis, it was like a curtain opening and revealing Davis running toward the end zone.

As that curtain opened, it unleashed a noise as a huge wave cascading from all over Jordan-Hare, and we were all going crazy — cheering, hugging, screaming.

Two weeks before, after the “Prayer at Jordan-Hare,” I had tweeted, “I cannot believe what I have just seen.” So I tweeted, “Again, I cannot believe what I have just seen.”

For the next couple of days, I heard from relatives who did not even care about football (or so I thought) telling me they had seen the kick and they thought it was great. I realized this was a moment shared with the college football world and the country, an unbelievable play. Those of us who were there became fortunate witnesses to history, and were glad to share in it.

The next couple of weeks, Auburn was like Disneyland, the happiest place on Earth. I remember seeing a campus tour pass in front of Tichenor Hall that next week, and everyone was gazing around them in wonder.

I realize we are mocked, often from another side of the state, for continuing to celebrate this moment. But this was a moment for all Auburn to celebrate, and seeing YouTube’s of fans celebrating, both inside the stadium and at home, reminds me of that bond.

For those who were watching at home or in a restaurant or bar, the moment was theirs as much as ours in the stadium. I still get choked up with joy watching it.

The Chronicle of Higher Education and Huffington Post collaborated on an excellent report, “Sports at Any Cost,” which looks at the high financial cost of sports, particularly to smaller schools trying to hit the so-called “big time.”

For institutions that do not rely on student fees, the money comes almost 100 percent from institutional funds, so the students would still pay the cost, but indirectly, through higher tuition, for example.

Vanderbilt University is not included, because it is a private institution and not subject to public records law.

LSU has committed itself to transferring $7.2 million/year from athletics to the general fund — the opposite direction of the subsidies portrayed in this article. In July, the university increased the transfer by $3 million for this year, given the funding crisis facing the university.

The day before the “Prayer in Jordan-Hare” against Georgia, ironically, I delivered the GameDay lecture for the Auburn Office of Communications and Marketing. My topic was “This Is Loyalty,” and I presented some research on fan behavior, particularly in rivalries.

After the game, I related some of the content – particularly the concepts of BIRGing and CORFing – on Twitter. The retweets and replies showed interest, perhaps because they sound like gross things that would happen at post-game keg parties.

It’s not surprising, but BIRGing and CORFing comprises some of the more fun aspects of academic research on fan loyalty.

We’ll blitz through the basics of social identity theory (finding groups that share our interests give our life balance, blah blah blah) and in-group/out-group conflicts (Robbers Cave experiment, yadda yadda yadda), to get to the more current stuff – disposition theory.

Giving credit where credit is due – and defying the cheap-click rivalry attitude of “professional” journalists – I would point out that two researchers from Alabama, Dolf Zillmann and Jennings Bryant, have done some of the best work on this. Type them into a Google Scholar search and party hearty.

But before they did the bulk of their research (including a 20-year trend study of the Iron Bowl rivalry), Robert Cialdini of Arizona State came up with the concepts of BIRGing and CORFing. BIRGing means “Basking In Reflected Glory” and CORFing means “Cutting Off Reflected Failure.”

First, the B word. This obviously refers to the way in which fans share a certain joy in their team’s victory, even though they might not have directly participated in it. I know, I know, the coach always says that the crowd helps, but we’re talking about throwing something down besides nachos.

It goes beyond wearing team apparel to the office on Monday or talking about the game around the water cooler. The winning team’s fans also report an enhanced self-image and more confidence in making decisions. This is serious stuff! And when your rival team loses, it increases the BIRG.

CORFing is not the opposite, because fans deal with losses in a different but not opposite way. Rather than hide from it, they blame it on external factors: “The refs were not going to reverse their call even though Murray did not cross the goal line,” or “Robinson was holding on that last pass.” (Yes, the end of the Georgia game produced quite the CORF-fest on both sides at some point.)

That is because losses often do not diminish a fan’s loyalty to the team, but often strengthens their resolve. Yes, research does show that fans often show less immediate outward support — fewer jerseys worn.

But we don’t abandon our in-groups quite that easily – even when the rival team wins and our team loses. They provide us too much social identity to be dumped that easily.

So after the trash talking and the blog commenting and the flag waving, I hope you BIRG to your heart’s content this weekend. Wear the sweatshirt on Monday. Talk about the game. Feel better about yourself and your decisions.

Unless you cheer for my rival.

Then, as one of the attendees at the aforementioned lecture said, “They can go CORF themselves.”